Brannigan's Special Ale
The Hawk and Dove Tavern and Inn - Main Room ---- ::''A relatively new establishment, the atmosphere of the Hawk and Dove is one of joviality and quaint ambience that is often crowded, smoke-filled and noisy with the banter of voices circulating within the room. It is here that locals come to drink, converse, game and generally relax and amusement themselves without the worries of their often hard and dreary life. . Like any good tavern, one can find refreshment or ease at the long expanse of the finely polished bar or perhaps at one of the many tables that await a friendly visitor. Looming large within the far wall rests a fireplace where the average man could stand clear within. The furniture is clean, comfortable that has been made of highly polished wood with the chairs having upholstered seats. All of the furniture looks brand new, or nearly new, though some already show signs of a few nics and scraps from fights or clumsy customers. The wooden floorboards are regularly swept clean and are polished to perfection. At the far end of the room is a long bar with a large menu hanging upon the wall over head. Off to the left side of the bar is a door leading to the tavern kitchen where succulent aromas waft through the doors into the main room. A pattern of roses intricately carved upon the rails of a wooden staircase leads guests up to the rooms on the second floor where exhausted travelers can rest and relax. The walls have been white washed which adds contrast to the darkly stained timber crossbeams over head. ---- Celeste and Thayndor sit a table near the hearth. Various ceramic mugs litter the surface as they seem to be enjoying some sort of conversation. "I had my concerns, " Celeste states, her hand once more lifting the mug to her lips to drink deeply. Though she looks abit ruffled her face once more show the delicate features a soft smile to her lips. "I am unsure when I will be granted that audience, is there a limitation?" The door to the Hawk & Dove opens up at this late hour, accompanied by no fanfare and simply the click of boots on the flooring. Lucius Nepos is the wearer of the boots. He looks around quickly, swings his cloak off and then heads off to the bar at a slow pace. Taran steps into the tanvern, tugging back his hood with a look of rueful recognition when he sees the performer's stage. He heads for the fireside, first, to thaw himself out. Already at the bar are a woman and two men in obsidian ringmail and violet tabards with the sigil of Darkwater Keep embroidered on the front. "Concerns that are, I imagine, your reward for listening to the rumors and speculations of those who do not know, rather than asking yourself," Thayndor replies with a smirk. "If you're speaking of an audience at Darkwater, the thaw is fast approaching and we will be gone shortly after it arrives. That is the limitation I have." Lucius Nepos slides into the barstool and quickly orders a cup of wine, some oil & vinegar mixed and a loaf of bread for himself. He looks over to his left and spots the men and women Darkwater flashing them a smirk. "How goes it?" Celeste Mikin says, "Well, I was meaning to speak with my cousin, once that is done. I will have a better understanding of where I need to make my way. Though as I said, it is too attractive for me to dismiss outright." She glances towards the man approaching the fire, "good evening, Master Taran." Waving a hand towards the freelander, she once more turns to address the Zahir. "This would be the bard I was mentioning earlier, your lordship."" Taran takes a seat near the roaring fire with a sigh of relief, coughing a bit to clear his throat. After humming a bit and making a face at the frog's-croak sound of it, he orders a mulled wine. Thayndor Zahir ahs, watching the bard from across the room. "We've met," he replies. "I hope your meeting with Duchess Rowena goes well, Lady Celeste. If you'll excuse me, though -- it is late, and I arrange for a bed." Celeste Mikin says, "Light Keep you," she nods her head, once more returning the the ale before her." Shar -- the female Darkwater guard -- looks Lucius up and down coolly before returning to her drink, not offering a reply. The two men give Lucius curt nods of acknowledgment but do not speak. "Huh. Quite an audience, tonight." Lucius mutters something else under his breath, adding water to the already tall cup of wine and filling it completely. He turns to the rest of the tavern, grabbing his wine and food then heads towards a table, also near the fire. Taran accepts his wine, sipping at it and humming experimentally. Only when he seems satisfied at the lack of croak does he turn to see the assembled. "...Ah," he says, the rich tenor dry with amusement. "Such a gathering for a hall that teaches such lessons. Light shine, gentles." "Likewise," Thayndor says to Celeste, and moves for the stairs. Celeste drinks deeply from the mug, perhaps to finish the rest of the ale, as she pushes it to join its sisters on the table. A ivory hand reaching up to brush the white blonde locks from her face as she stands, dropping a few coins to the table. Lucius Nepos tears a hunk of bread off of the loaf and dips it without hesitation in the oil and vinegar mixture, as he begins to sip his wine. His eyes first lift up to the bard, who gets a nod, and then shift around until they've found another familiar face - Celeste. He smiles gregariously. Taran hums to himself, sips at his wine, and begins a song. While not so loud as to require anyone to raise their voices to speak over him, his tenor voice is rich, clear and ringing - singing, of all things, a jovial tavern-tune: "Within the town of Sutter Down, there is a tavern tale You never do think you to take a small drink of Brannigan's Special Ale You start seein' things real funny, and given half a chance, Start swirling around and you'll then tumble down, and the mice on your head will all dance!" Celeste nods towards Lucius Nepos, then glances towards Taran, applauding his performance. "Well done, Master Taran. Once again, a wonderful performance." Her eyes once more returning to Lucius as she moves to stand near his table. A hand returning to brush at the white blonde hair. "Greetings again, constable is it?" Lucius Nepos is immediately taken by the catchy tune, a look of surprise and appreciation finding its way onto his face once Taran begins to sing. And it's like that how is attention is half stolen by the song, the other half towards the former Scourge. He nods, bowing his head. "Aye, it is m'lady. How goes it tonight?" Having found his voice, Taran plays the entertainer - walking among the tables and focusing on those with downcast or particularly attractive faces. A thread of goodnatured teasing winds throughout the verse, though Celeste's applause wins her a theatrical bow between the lines: "You may be a rich and noble king, in a castle great and grand You dare not go to sleep when you're counting the sheep of all the herds in the land The count is on a parchment, which is stolen by a gale Losing count is a dread, now you're losing your head, all from Brannigan's Special Ale!" A soft pink tinges Celeste's cheeks as she realizes that she's interrupted Lucius's thoughts, quickly pivoting on her heels towards the staircase. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to intrude." She waves a hand towards the minstrel. " Master Taran is an exceptional bard, and your attention should not be divided so." She glances to Taran as he begins to work the room, partially turning to Lucius once more, "my night finds me in strange spirits, but thank you for asking, constable." "I wouldn't worry about it too much, m'lady." Lucius ripostes to Celeste, flashing her a grin. Then, without a word but with a sweep of his arm he offers her a seat at the table. "It's nice to watch something this entertaining with good company. But I do hope your spirits are raised. He's got an excellent voice." Taran - in the process of a performance - can't speak beyond the words of the tune, nor let the melody slip out of its jaunty, teasing refrain. But he does offer Celeste an apologetic look with the entertainer's smile, and moves at apparent random through the hall, bestowing his attentions more or less equally on any patron willing to be amused at this hour: "Perchance within this drunken dream, you'll think yourself a knight Who's been knocked off your horse, but it's all in due course your opponent has won the fight She strips off all her armor, removes her dress of mail Try hard not to stare, because you took the dare to drink Brannigan's Special Ale! I'm telling you my young friends, there's naught that can avail, You'll be lost forever, that's why you should never drink Brannigan's Special Ale!" Finishing with a flourish and a bow, Taran gives the innkeeper a laughing look. "A room for the night and a hot meal, or shall I try another?" "Oh to wish that I could, constable," Celeste sighs. "But I fear that a night of drinking and too much riding, will having me falling asleep on your shoulder. That would be rather unbecoming of a lady I would think." Her gaze once more seeking out the wandering bard. "Though I'm sure that Master Taran's song will soothe my absence." Lucius Nepos lifts his hands to clap loudly, stopping only after a good few moments. At that point he seems to avail himself of some mixed wine, gulping down a good quarter of the cup's worth and following this with some more bread munching. "I do hope that it does; though I can sympathise with the riding. Years of marching with the Blades left me with a similar feeling." Taran's performance seems good enough for a bowl of hot stew, at least, which he sits before at the bar as with a prize won and digs in with the attitude of a man famished. Celeste arches a white blonde brow to him, as she laughs. "Leaving a strange woman asleep on your shoulder or soothing the absence." Shaking her head, she places a hand on the proffered chair for a moment, her eyes drinking in the man seated before her. "Perhaps we could share drinks another night? Before we leave..that is?" Lucius Nepos tilts his head to the side, smirking wryly as is his norm. "I'd dare say the latter, m'lady. Don't know if the former'd be most acceptable, though you're not a stranger as you were already invited into my home, once." He winks, in any case, expression possibly amused and hard to read. "I would like that.. though that is to mean you're coming on the expedition, with us?" As an aside, he asks, "You knpw this Mastar Taran then? We should invite him over." Taran is working through his stew, and engaging in a tired - though quiet - argument with the barman. "No, I told you - I had a *cold*," he says. "Of course my voice was terrible, and given the fever I had that week - no, I don't remember, to be honest, but I do recall the nightmare about the purple tomatos, so I am certainly prepared to take you at your word..." Celeste Mikin says, "Yes, I will be attending in the capacity of a priest, The Count and I were speaking earlier of possible prospects among Darkwater for my...talents." She turns to wave Taran over to the table,"as for Master Taran, he joined Norran and I for dinner earlier." She wrinkles her nose slightly while brushing back a lock of white blonde hair behind her ear, "as for a drink, you have only to leave word here for me. I will be available most evenings, though if you prefer we could just meet here."" "It will be good to have a confessor on the journey, I admit, that is not blinded by piety so much that they cannot appreciate what the Wildlands have to offer. And a priest who enjoys themselves, at that!" Lucius raises his cup of wine up in salute to this, chuckling. "That's certainly a good idea. I'd like to get to know who I'm going to be going out with before the day comes and all." Taran - attentive as ever to the will of the audience - gives the master a quick bow and comes over to the table, offering Celeste a rather deeper bow. "My apologies, milady, if I interrupted - I did say I must sing for my supper most nights." He inclines his head to Lucius as well, as he takes a seat. "And my thanks - I am peacock enough to be honored at enthusiatic ovations. How may I serve?" "Well then," Celeste sighs as Taran takes the seat, "now my absence won't even be noticed." The white blonde curls frame her face as she turns her attention to the bard. "It was not you interrupting, sir, but I. You still continue to sing divinely and I count myself honored to have heard you again this evening. Sadly I must take my leave." She gaze once more lighting on Lucius, "you can ask me anything when we meet again, constable. I just prefer to let some dogs still rest. Light Keep you both." She turns on her heels once more headed for the staircase. Lucius Nepos bows his head again in formality to the noblewoman. "Of course. It was a pleasure to see you again, m'lady, and Light Keep to you as well." The Constable grins at Taran, patting the unfamiliar man on the shoulder. "Bloody great job up there, lad. Hardly seen the likes of someone with talent lately." Taran laughs, going with the shoulderclasp, but to Celeste says, "All men notice when the sun is hidden behind a cloud, milady, and sun's light makes all things more beautiful. If I am in fine voice, consider it the effect of your presence, and take that knowing with you." Turning to Lucius, though, he says lightly, "Perhaps you might convince the tavernkeeper? I am allowed to sing for my supper but nothing more elaborate. Ah well, life lesson - never sing when fevered with a cold." Celeste turns back to at hearing Taran's words, a pale blush touching her cheeks. She opens her mouth to say something but seeing him turn back to Lucius, she just shakes her head and continues towards the stairs. Lucius Nepos leans back to grin at the bard. "If you need a little bit of coin I'll gladly set you up with some. I think you're one of my tenants, too. I'm Sweetwater's constable, and I remember seeing your name on a ledger.. still, it's good to get out back into the city. I was born a city man, and while I love the country it's just something else to be here with all the hustle and bustle." A little bit more quietly, Lucius says, "A way with the words, eh? No doubt." "Singer and storyteller, sir," Taran nods. "She seemed...put out that you enjoyed my singing, and I am no man with influence to hold back a noblewoman's ire." He tilts his head. "Sweetwater, yes. I was through there today." "So you are one of the tenants? Oh, good. Western Sweetwater, eh? The oak house." Lucius asks these questions mainly in a rhetorical manner, his attentions evaporating into his own little world for a few seconds before he snaps back. "She seems real friendly with us common folk. I can laquer my tongue up really nice for the blue blooded, but it's an interesting turn of events. I think she was more blushy and embarassed that you told her something so nice. Inexperienced and all, she used to be a Scourge. But uh.. if anything happens, keep it under cover of night, eh? Not so encouraged." Taran raises his eyebrows. "A wise bard never kisses and tells," he chuckles. "At least, not without a name and setting change to protect the guilty, or what's a love song for?" He shakes his head. "A Scourge? Seems very...relaxed, if not shy...sweet, though somewhat militant. At the keep she spoke mostly of having to use her mace on people." "Guess that's what ya get for being the one that used to beat people for the Church. Church militant's better be at least a /little/ militant, I suppose." The Constable can't help but find amusement at Taran's words, finishing his food and drink and pusing the dishes away with some Kahars tucked under for the server. "Well, at least you've got some sense in you." "Far be it from me to incite a Scourge to take up old habits," nods Taran firmly. "As to sense - well, one can't have sense and be a bard. Only this morning I was helping to haul a bag of metallic weight for a pleasant lady I met on the way, and she was quite kind enough to tell me all the flaws in my plans to live in music." He inclines his head at Lucius, acknowledging, "Not a life you seem to have chosen." Lucius Nepos chuckles. "No, can't say it is. Nor can I say I'd be apt to do it, truth be told, but I can appreciate an' respect it, Taran. Ah, shite." The Constable smiles amusedly and smacks his forehead. "I forgot to introduce myself. Lucius Nepos." His arm reaches out, but he continues talking. "Anyways, what I was saying was I couldn't do it.. father was a Blade and a stonemason. Me too, now, kind of. Served the Crown for ten years and got decomissioned with that whole slew of other soldiers recently. Now I'm working for Countess Sahna Nillu as her constable. But I've always done a bit of the masonery on the side, hoping I can get my Guild liscense." Taran takes Lucius' hand, shaking it with a nod. "Yes, I met the lady Sahna," he says. "Singing for my supper; when I explained it isn't quite for fun, she dropped a house upon me. Or a hovel - I did wander out that way to see what I'd gotten myself into. I'm used to less...bulky presents." Lucius Nepos doesn't really look surprised about that, though his eyebrows do inch up. "Yes, she likes diversity in her town. Besides, we can use a bard, and I'm sure you can use a house. The food's usually fresh and the people are friendly." "I'm afraid I really can't promise to be home much," Taran explains, somewhat apologetically. "I am a bard, a storyteller. In traveling, I hear new stories as well as tell stories to new audiences. Much as you seemed to enjoy my singing, I doubt you'd be so entertained if you'd heard my entire repertoire a few times over." "Don't expect you too. I'm not much of a stay at home man, either, to be truthful with you, though I try to inspect the watches on the town a few times a day and meet with the people. But of course, you do what you must." Lucius rises up. "And that reminds me.. I must sleep, now. Pleasure to meet you, Taran, and Light keep. I best be off." With that he strides on out the door. (OOC Note: "Brannigan's Special Ale" is a song by Heather Alexander, here edited to fit Chia's theme.) Category:Logs